


yoga class

by indiffrntnewt



Series: my newtmas oneshots [10]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Thomas is a dumbass, i wrote most of this half asleep, newt is a yoga instructor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiffrntnewt/pseuds/indiffrntnewt
Summary: Thomas is a workaholic who keeps forgetting to spend time with his friends. But when Teresa convinces him to go to a yoga class with her, he realizes he should probably appreciate her more.[where teresa drags thomas to yoga class to get him to 'loosen up', except the yoga instructor is hot and thomas can't stop embarrassing himself]
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: my newtmas oneshots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1309421
Comments: 11
Kudos: 121





	yoga class

**Author's Note:**

> rated M for all the sexual innuendos. sorry not sorry

Thomas was a workaholic. He spent most of his time writing papers, doing homework and researching subjects that were relevant to his classes (that’s what he told his friends, at least -- in reality, he just enjoyed the process of learning new information, completely diving into a story until you fully understood it). Any time he did not spend in his room, behind his desk, was devoted to his hectic job at the local coffee shop The Scorch, where he served customers from five to nine almost every day. It was the only way he could afford college and he enjoyed the work, so when his manager Jorge asked him how many hours he could make per week, he signed up for as many as possible. Brenda, his co-worker and close friend, scolded him for it, but considering it meant she had more time off, she didn’t have much to complain about. 

His love for school, studying and work meant that his daily schedule was always full. He woke up at six every day, went for a run, showered and got changed at seven and left for class at seven thirty -- he wasn’t really a night owl and didn’t enjoy working late, so he’d taken as many morning classes as possible. His classes usually ended around noon, after which he went for lunch with Teresa and Chuck, and then he locked himself in his room for several hours to make homework before leaving for work. The coffee shop closed at eleven, but he got off at nine, usually grabbing dinner on the way home before finishing his homework and going straight to bed. His only days off were Sunday and Tuesday -- except he spent most of his free time still working in some kind of way, whether it was writing a paper, studying for his finals or simply looking up informative videos on YouTube. 

Needless to say, he was busy. 

His friends were quite the opposite; Brenda was as careless and free as a person could be, her job being the only steady thing in her life. She didn’t go to college, just spent her time in her very own attic painting and writing music, going out almost every night. Teresa was in college, like him, studying architecture, but didn’t work. She came from a rich family (Thomas envied her, but he’d never tell) which meant that she didn’t really need a job. Her father paid for almost everything she needed. If she wasn’t at school, she was either working out or playing video games with Minho in their shared apartment. Minho wasn’t exactly busy either; he worked at the local gym and seemed quite happy with that, not interested in doing much more. Any time Thomas asked him about his future plans, he simply shrugged with a smile and something along the lines of “we’ll see”.

Thomas knew he was distant. He couldn’t help it -- his work kept calling out to him no matter what he did, and he kept giving in to the urge to pick it up again. Recently, one of his co-workers, a tall, grumpy guy named Gally, had been fired from The Scorch, which meant that Thomas had to take over his hours, spending more time at work than at home. He often fell asleep only minutes after he got home, getting just enough sleep before getting up early again. Minho and Teresa didn’t wake up till eight or nine, both of them preferring afternoon classes over morning classes. He usually only saw Teresa at lunch, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a full conversation with Minho. 

Which is exactly why he found himself in the gym on a hot Saturday morning, Teresa by his side, grinning broadly. 

As much as he loved work, he missed his friends, and when he mentioned it the Friday before, Teresa had gasped and sat up straight before telling him he  _ had  _ to go to yoga class with her, because  _ Tom, please, it would be so much fun, we haven’t seen each other in so long… _

Thomas had commented that they saw each other every day -- with them being roommates, it was pretty hard to avoid each other -- but she’d ignored his complaints. After many minutes of begging, pleading and promising Thomas she’d do his laundry and dishes, he grudgingly gave in, even if only to get her off his back. He hadn’t expected her to actually go through with it, but she’d woken him up at eight with a bright smile and a promise he’d have fun. 

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t protested more. Now, standing there, he wished he had. He felt incredibly stupid amongst the young, skinny women around him, all dressed in tight leggings and bright sports bras. If he wasn’t already uncomfortable, the fact that they were all tightly packed together in the small hallway in front of the door definitely did the trick. He forced himself to press his arms against his sides, scared to move in case he accidentally touched someone. There was only one other guy in the yoga class -- Thomas awkwardly smiled at him. 

“I want to go home,” he whispered to Teresa, who rolled her eyes at him. 

“Come on, Tom. You need to loosen up a little.”

“Can you not notice how uncomfortable I am?” He hissed. “I wouldn’t call this  _ loosening up _ .”

“That’s on you,” she smiled. “Not my fault.”

He was about to reply with another hissed comment when the door creaked, announcing that the class was about to start. Nerves swarmed his gut --  _ if he pushed through the crowd with his elbows, it’d take him only a few seconds to disappear around the corner… _

“Sorry I’m a bit late. Come on in.”

Thomas froze in place, his brain short-circuiting. As the girls around him started to move and he felt an icy fear in his heart, he could only think of three things: 

One. The voice that had spoken was male. 

Two. The man had an obvious British accent. 

Three. He was gay and  _ loved  _ British accents. 

Teresa nudged his back, which was probably the only reason he found himself moving forward, walking towards the door with a mixture of dread and nausea in his gut. 

He didn’t actually see the instructor until he walked through the door, daring to glance at him for a split-second before quickly turning his head away, desperately wishing the guy wouldn’t see his embarrassment and fear. 

The guy was tall, taller than Thomas by a few inches, and blond.  _ Blond.  _ He mentally cursed at himself for having a thing for blondes -- it never ended well. And if that wasn’t enough, he had fascinating brown eyes, so dark that Thomas couldn’t even see his pupils. He didn’t dare look down at what the blond was wearing, but he could see something gray. 

Teresa greeted him with “Hi, Newt,” as Thomas rushed to walk to the very back of the room.  _ Newt.  _ Like Newt Scamander? He’d never heard of anyone with that name before. Not real life people, anyway. 

“Hey, Teresa,” he heard the guy,  _ Newt,  _ say, and he had to physically restrain himself from looking up. 

“Finally convinced him to go, hm?”

He looked up at that, finding Newt smiling at him. Oh god. Oh, god, he was wearing black shorts and a gray tank top, his arms folded, veins bulging. Now that Thomas could really see him, he realized he wasn’t as tall as he initially thought, just lanky. All in all, he looked incredibly attractive, and he blinked a couple times, shaking his head, to compose himself.

Teresa nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. It took a bit of begging, but yeah.”

“I’m glad,” Newt said, smiling at Thomas. “I’m Newt.”

“I heard,” Thomas said, and he immediately regretted it. “I mean… I heard Teresa call you that.”

Mentally scolding himself for embarrassing himself in front of this attractive stranger, he shook his head and continued. “I’m Thomas.”

“I heard,” Newt said, copying Thomas’ early words. “Teresa’s told me all about you.”

“Teresa should know better than to gossip,” Thomas said, sending her a playful glare, to which she smirked. 

“What can I say, I had to tell him lots of good things about you before introducing you. You have an interesting way of approaching new people. Interestingly  _ embarrassing _ .”

Thomas blushed furiously and looked down. “I’m not that bad.”

“He’s terrible,” Teresa said to Newt in a low voice, but Thomas still heard it. “It gets better once you know him, though.”

“I’m still here,” he reminded them, but she just laughed at him. 

“Good. You looked so scared before, I was worried you might run away,” Newt said. Thomas looked back at him. He was still smiling. “Don’t worry, though. I won’t eat you. Yet.”

He walked to the front of the room with a wink and Thomas stood frozen in place, embarrassment taking over every cell of his body. Teresa walked over to him, not fazed at all. 

“You ready?”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” He whispered. She raised her eyebrows as if surprised but there was a teasing glint in her eyes. 

“Warn you about what? The difficult poses?”

“That too,” Thomas said, “but why didn’t you warn me about Newt?”

“Oh, that,” Teresa shrugged. “Sorry, I probably should’ve told you I talked to him about you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me he was  _ hot _ ?”

“Oh,  _ that, _ ” Teresa smiled at him. “Dunno, I guess I just forgot.”

“Alright,” Newt called from the front, clapping his hands. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

The realization of what was about to happen dawned on Thomas once more and he felt his insides turn cold. 

Yoga. 

Which he sucked at.

With a hot instructor. 

He was seriously considering running away when Newt turned around and turned on the music, playing some random song Thomas didn’t know. Next to him, Teresa hopped on her spot excitedly. His fear must have been visible on his face because Newt sent him another one of his small smiles. 

“Don’t worry, this class is not that difficult. If you need any help, just tell me.”

Thomas felt at least twenty people stare at him but refused to look at them, knowing he’d probably die on the spot if he did. Instead, he nodded at Newt as Teresa squeezed his shoulder, probably to comfort him. 

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up,” he mumbled as Newt instructed them to sit down. 

“You’ll be fine,” Teresa said. “Half the people here don’t know what they’re doing most of the time.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing all the time!” Thomas hissed at her and she chuckled. 

“Newt will explain.”

“No, please, god…” he buried his face in his hands. “That’d be so embarrassing.”

“That’s his job,” she explained, mimicking the way Newt sat. “He shows us what to do and then walks around helping us with all the poses, correcting us if he has to.”

“Doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.”

+++

Thomas found out after only two minutes that he absolutely  _ sucked  _ at yoga. It wasn’t like math, something he could learn with practice, he just plain sucked. The poses hurt, he was incredibly stiff and kept getting distracted by Newt walking around the room to help the young women around him. He felt Teresa’s pitying gaze on him more often than not. 

“I wanna go home,” he complained after Newt forced them in a weird flamingo-like position. His legs were trembling and he kept falling over, making a complete fool of himself. Teresa stood completely still beside him, smiling. 

“How do you do that?” He hissed, struggling to keep his balance on his left foot. He was about to give up and sit down when suddenly, two hands touched his hips, keeping him steady. 

“Careful there, Tommy,” a low voice said behind him, making him freeze in place. “You gotta make sure you use your whole foot, not just one side.”

Thomas felt his entire body heat up as Newt slowly retreated his fingers from his hips, his touch leaving Thomas’ skin burning. He was sure he would’ve collapsed on the spot if it hadn’t been for his frozen limbs that refused to move. God, what was he, thirteen? Gone from just a touch on the hips?

_ Please, think of something else. Anything else other than Newt and his burning touch on his hips, his voice, his blond hair… _

“Thanks,” he croaked out. He could hear Teresa huff out a laugh next to him. 

“You’re welcome,” Newt chuckled and Thomas relaxed a bit. 

Too much. 

His knee buckled and he felt himself fall. He had a split-second to curse at himself for being an idiot and ungracefully swung his arms around before, yet again, two hands managed to hold him in place, around his torso this time. 

“Whoa!”

For some reason, despite everything that was happening, all Thomas could think was  _ he’s stronger than he looks.  _

Because now Newt was holding him, preventing him from falling, and if their contact before hadn’t killed him already, this definitely would have. Newt was strong,  _ really _ strong, his fingers digging into Thomas’ chest.

He somehow managed to get his feet back under him and stood up with Newt’s support, feeling everyone stare at him yet again. Not in the mood to meet their eyes, he turned sideways, awkwardly smiling at Newt. 

“You good?” The blond asked, his face concerned, and Thomas kind of wanted to cry. 

“Yeah. Thanks,” he said. “Sorry, I’m not very good at this.”

Newt stepped backwards, letting his hands fall. “It’s okay, Tommy. You’ll learn.”

He reached out to squeeze Thomas’ upper arm before walking away, back to the very front of the room. 

When Thomas turned around, Teresa was smirking at him. 

“Oh, shut up.”

+++

Thomas miraculously managed to keep his balance for the next twenty minutes, forcing himself into many uncomfortable positions but always staying steady. For some reason, the thought of Newt coming over to them to help Thomas once again scared him way too much, and he wanted more than anything to prevent that in case he embarrassed himself again. So, he grit his teeth and followed Newt’s instructions, trying his very best to stay focused on the poses and his limbs instead of anything else. Anything else being Newt. 

He failed, but he gave himself an A+ for effort. 

About halfway through the hour that Thomas wasn’t sure was his worst or best one yet, Newt called for a small break, and the people in the room started chatting quietly. Thomas awkwardly followed Teresa to the side of the room, where she stopped by a big tinted window. She pulled out two water bottles, handing one to Thomas. One glance at the front of the room told him Newt had disappeared, probably to escape the loud girls in the room.

“And? What do you think?”

“He’s cute,” Thomas absentmindedly said, wondering where Newt had gone. 

“Not that, you idiot,” Teresa pinched his upper arm, causing him to jump in surprise. 

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“What do you think of the class?” She pressed on, ignoring his question and he frowned at her, rubbing the sore spot. 

“I suck,” he mumbled. 

“You’ll learn.”

“As if I’m ever coming back here,” he sighed. “I just spent half an hour forcing myself into weird poses and embarrassing myself -”

“I think you were alright,” a voice spoke up behind him and he jumped again, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. Newt was watching him with an amused smile on his face, arms folded once again. 

“You’re probably the only one,” he managed to choke out before turning to Teresa, sending her a desperate look. Thankfully, she seemed to catch on to his unspoken question, as she straightened up and spoke up. 

“Are you coming to that big party Alby’s throwing?”

Newt shook his head, scrunching up his nose. “Not that big on parties. Or Alby.”

Thomas had heard of Alby before; he was a rather buff, quiet senior at his college who was known for throwing great parties. He’d never actually gone to one himself -- Minho’s stories about them were quite enough. Apparently, the craziest stuff went down at his parties, and going to one was pretty much mandatory if you were a student at Glade University. 

Except if you were Thomas, of course. 

“You know Alby?” he asked curiously. Newt looked at him now, shrugging. 

“We went out for a while last year.”

Thomas wasn’t sure what to feel -- happiness that Newt was into guys, or jealousy that Alby had gone out with him. Either way, he felt  _ something,  _ and he found himself smiling at Newt. 

Unfortunately, Teresa interrupted their little moment by speaking up again. “It’s a shame. Apparently everyone’s going.”

“Are  _ you _ ?” Newt asked, raising an eyebrow at her, and she grinned mischievously. 

“Maybe. If Minho’s coming.”

Newt turned to Thomas. “You?”

Thomas just took a sip as he asked and choked on his water in his hurry to answer. 

“N-no,” he coughed out as Teresa clapped him on his back. “Working.”

“On a Saturday night?”

Thomas simply shrugged at him and Newt chuckled. “You’re an interesting one, Tommy.”

+++

As wonderful as it was, the small break also  _ sucked,  _ because in that short amount of time he’d spent resting, he’d completely forgotten how bad he was at yoga. He spent a good five minutes cursing under his breath when his legs refused to move in the pose Newt showed, and another five staring at the floor, because  _ oh my god, Newt had come over and helped him again…  _

Thomas was sure he’d combust on the spot before the end of the class. 

They were doing another weird pose, Thomas’ left leg up in the air, when Newt walked through the rows of people and called out: “Keep you form straight guys, unlike me.”

The comment caused quite a few regulars to chuckle, but Thomas almost fell over once again. Newt had reached him and Teresa by then, walking over to stand beside Thomas, who refused to look up. 

And then Newt was touching him,  _ again _ , and Thomas panicked once again. It was a simple gesture, he just lifted Thomas’ leg up higher, but his heart started to race and he felt himself get even hotter. 

“There,” Newt said, letting go of Thomas’ leg. “I don’t think you’re loose enough, Tommy, you need to relax a bit.”

Thomas instantly became halfway hard and would have loudly cursed if he hadn’t been so embarrassed. After trying to compose himself for a few seconds, he internally screamed and had to force himself to stay still as Newt moved on, walking back to the front of the room. He could hear Teresa laugh beside him and bowed his head, trying to hide the redness he knew was visible on his face. 

_ Was this guy doing it on purpose?  _

“Ten more minutes, let’s do something easy,” Newt called out from the front and everyone stood up straight, some stretching, some standing completely still. Thomas mostly tried to hide behind the tall girl in front of him. 

He spent the next ten minutes desperately trying to avoid Teresa’s eyes, knowing she was smirking at him. Newt didn’t come over again -- probably because he could see that Thomas wasn’t struggling as much with the easy poses. He was grateful for it; the last thing he wanted was for Newt to see him in this state. 

When the last song ended, Thomas wasn’t sure whether he was glad he could leave or sad it was over. Teresa stretched some more beside him, letting out a content hum. 

“Doesn’t it just feel great?” She asked, her eyes closed, and Thomas seriously considered punching her. 

“If ‘great’ means incredibly uncomfortable, yes,” he answered, frowning at her. 

“Aw, come on, Tom,” it wasn’t that bad,” she cooed. “It’s like Newt said, just loosen up a little.”

She was teasing him, Thomas could tell. There was a certain glint in her eyes that couldn’t mean anything good. 

“I hate you,” he muttered, bending down to pick up his water bottle as people started leaving the room. 

“You don’t,” she said, and he could hear her smile. “I think you’re grateful I brought you here.”

“Everything hurts!”

“Not my fault.”

He straightened up, and to his embarrassment (and to Teresa’s amusement, probably), realized Teresa and Newt were the only two people left in the room besides him. He quickly took her arm and started walking to the door, hoping Newt wouldn’t notice him.

But he’d never really been a lucky guy.

The blond had gathered his stuff and threw a towel over his shoulder before joining them by the door. “Did you have fun?”

He stared at Newt, at a loss for words. “I -”

Teresa seemed to pity him, as she swung an arm around his shoulder and grinned. “He had fun.”

“Get off, you’re all sweaty,” Thomas complained, throwing her arm off his shoulders. Newt laughed beside him and he instinctively turned to look at him. 

“It was alright. Would’ve been better if I actually knew what I was doing.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Newt said, meeting his gaze, a soft smile on his lips. 

“God,” Teresa said, “I’m gonna take a shower and you should too. I’m not doing this right now.”

She playfully smacked the back of his head before disappearing in a room that Thomas assumed was the girls locker room. For once, he was grateful that Teresa hadn’t elaborated on what exactly  _ ‘this’  _ meant. He turned to Newt, unsure of where to go. 

“Here,” Newt said, motioning for Thomas to follow him. “It’s not that far.”

Thomas, dumbfounded, followed him to a door just around the corner. He could hear at least ten people moving around and talking on the other side of the wall. 

Right. The boys locker room.

“So,” he said, dragging out the word. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he didn’t want Newt to leave quite yet, either. Newt folded his arms and smiled at him. 

“Yes?”

“Thanks,” Thomas said, because he was an idiot and really couldn’t think of anything smart to say. How do you tell a hot guy he’s hot and you’d really like to see him again in a situation where he didn’t have to force his body in weird positions? 

That sounded weird, even in his own head. 

“You’re welcome,” Newt smiled. “You reckon you’ll be comin’ back?”

Thomas shrugged, looking down in shame. “Yoga’s not really my thing.”

“What is your thing, then?” Newt asked and Thomas smiled. 

“Running.”

“Hm.” Newt looked him up and down once before shrugging. “I guess that makes sense. With the muscles and all.”

Thomas felt his face heat up for what felt like the hundredth time that day and Newt smirked. 

He was about to say goodbye to get into the shower (and definitely  _ not  _ think about Newt, he would  _ never _ ) when Newt straightened up and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a black phone. “Here.”

“What?”

Thomas’ mind was blank, once again, as he stared at the phone Newt was currently holding in front of him, his fingers (oh god, his  _ fingers _ ) curled around the phone case. 

Newt rolled his eyes and smirked. “Your phone number, Tommy. Put it in. Unless you don’t want to?”

He raised his eyebrows and Thomas immediately snatched the phone away, hurrying to type in his phone number. “Yes, of course, I -”

He saved the contact as ‘Tommy’ before he could give it much thought and handed the phone back to Newt, who pocketed it with a smile. 

“Thanks. Wouldn’t want you to miss our first date ‘cause I didn’t have your number, hm? A little birdie told me you’re free tonight.”

Thomas froze, unable to think of a proper response.  _ Did this guy just ask him out? This hot, sweet guy, who he’d embarrassed himself in front of many times that day? _

“Yes,” He sputtered out, his heart beating out his chest. “I… Yes.”

“Good,” Newt said, still smirking. “See ya at seven, Tommy.”

He winked at him and left, leaving Thomas standing alone in the hallway, a thousand thoughts running through his head.

He’d have to ask Jorge if he could take the night off. 

**Author's Note:**

> for my dear friends on twitter who posted this idea and allowed me to write it, i hope i didn't disappoint yall
> 
> please note that i don't know shit about yoga so if anything doesn't make sense that's why x


End file.
